I Will Never Forsake You
by FatGlamour
Summary: We can’t keep hiding them, Albus. We can’t keep saving them. Harry Potter may go to Azkaban. Ron Weasley may very well become a shell holding a dying soul and Hermione Granger may become her own destruction. We can do nothing, Albus... ONESHOT, COMPLETE


**I Will Never Forsake You**

Prologue

_"Halo of Hell!__ And with a pain_

_Not Hell shall make me far again-"_

_~ Tamerlane, Edgar Allan Poe_

She felt it before the screams began. She felt the deep unwanted fear in her soul as she stared up into a mask covered face. Fathomless eyes from within a silver framing laughed at her. Her hand clenched his harder, her knuckles becoming white. She stared as the stranger lifted their wand. She could not even think about reaching for her own.

Pure white light flashed by her head, sending him away from her. He flew suspended in air for a moment, before landing roughly on the dusty street. She could see the pain etched on his pale skinned face. His teeth jarred in his head as his skull connected with the ground. Beautiful blue eyes locked with her own, willing her to run, but she couldn't.

Her hand still tingled from where his had been wrenched harshly from hers.

_"Crucio!"___

His screams echoed horribly in her ears as he thrashed about, his black robes quickly becoming spoiled. She could see the magic as it coursed through his body, attacking every nerve, enjoying his pain. His eyes gazed once more into hers, tear filled and hollow. They told her of all of his feelings for her. They told her that he loved her.

It had to stop.

She ran and fell down at the Death Eater's feet. Her hands clenched handfuls of their robes. She sobbed, pitifully and pathetic, and pleaded. Her whimpering was cut short as a leather gloved hand came down and wrapped around her arm. She stared up into those dark eyes, fear clutching at her insides.

"Shut up, you silly girl." 

She had a small feeling that the person was smiling behind the mask. They pulled her up so that they both were eye to eye. They jerked her arm, making the sickening crack of a bone. Bile rose up into her throat, her mouth becoming sour. Her eyes stared up into cold ones once more before she was thrown to the ground.

She fell hard on her ankle and felt it give way. Pain flared sharply and her stomach turned. She wretched violently and cried as his screams started again. There was nothing she could do. _If only I had my wand…_

She saw a horrible green light from the corner of her eye. She turned her head to face where it had occurred, her frazzled mind thinking thoughts on which curses were that particular color. Something cold wrapped around her heart as she knew.

The Killing Curse was that color.

She looked with wide tear filled eyes to her loved one's fallen form. Sweat and dirt covered his face as he lay with one hand upon his chest. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she realized that his chest was rising and falling with each breath he took. He was alive.

With a furrowing brow, she turned back to the Death Eater. Their wand was held in an outstretched hand, facing the boy on the ground. They stood unnaturally still before they fell face down in the road, revealing a smaller figure behind them.

A wand fell to the earth, landing a short distance away from his old sneakers. His jeans were faded and thin. His jumper hung over his thin form to come slightly over severely shaking hands. She looked up into trapped emerald eyes that stared at her, pleading for forgiveness.

"Harry?"

"Hermione… is… is Ron… okay....?"

She looked back to the fallen boy, lying away from her. She stood up on swaying legs and walked slowly to his side. She fell to her knees and lifted him up to hold in her arms. She sobbed as she saw Harry fall on the other side of Ron. He brought his hand up on the red haired youth's shoulder and looked up into broken brown eyes. Tears rolled from her eyes as she reached across and held his hand tightly.

His other hand went down to hold Ron's and he leaned across his cursed friend to rest his forehead on Hermione's unoccupied shoulder. He felt tears come unbidden to his eyes and he bit his lip. _I just killed someone…_

"It'll be alright…" She murmured softly to them. "It'll all be alright…"

"Harry?"

She approached his shadowed form carefully, her slipper feet making little noise against the polished floor of the Hospital Ward. The large window was behind him, the moon silhouetting him and clouding his features. He tensed when she spoke his name and there was a rustling in the dark as he brought up his legs to his chest.

"Go, Hermione. Ron needs you more than I do." His voice was harsh and throaty making her realize that he had been crying.

She sighed. "He's sleeping and I need you more than Ron needs me right now." She reached out to touch him and he leaned away. "Harry, please…"

"I am a murderer. You're not safe around me."

"Harry…"

"I am a _murderer_, Hermione, but I guess I saw this happening right with the prophesy and all. I mean I could either kill or die. I chose to kill and I seem to have started early."

"Harry, you did the only thing that you could-"

"Hermione, who knows maybe I'm just like they are saying, mentally challenged, crazy, however you want to say it… I am bloody nutters."

"Harry you are not crazy-"

"Who'll be next?" He bolted off the bed and turned toward her, moonlight glinting off of his glasses, body taunt. "Who'll save you from me? Who'll save you and Ron from _me_?"

"Harry you are not-"

A soft whimper cut her off and both of them turned to the bed behind Hermione. The pale figure was twitching on it bring his shaking hands up to place themselves on either side of his head. His eyes clenched tightly as he moaned her name.

With one last fleeting look to Harry, she turned to Ron. She sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled his limp form up into her arms. She placed his drooping head on her shoulder while gently caressing back of neck. She ran her hands through his soft red locks. "What's wrong?"

"Voices… I heard voices screaming… I never heard them before…"

"Hush… It was a nightmare…"

"…No pictures…"

"Albus, the boy is not well!"

The headmaster sighed, removing his glasses to rub at his tired eyes. He stared at his desk for a few minutes before looking up into the irate mediwitch's face. She was breathing rather indignantly from her nose; eyes alight with an inner fire. He sighed again, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table and leaned his head against his hands.

"Poppy, how damaged is he?"

"Well," she said letting out a puff of breath. Her eyes became downcast and she stared at the floor for a few minutes before she raised her eyes to meet his again. "While all physical wounds have healed such as his head, his state of mind is quite weak."

"What do you mean?"

"He is hearing… things… inside his head. I had no clue about that until this morning when he woke up screaming. He was thrashing about and I rushed over to calm him…Albus, I have never had anyone to look at me in such a way…" She paused and he noted the recollection in her eyes.

"He told me to get Ms. Granger, and when I asked him why, all he said was she is the only one that can get it to stop. After seeing the boy's distressed state it was all I could do but to get Ms. Granger.

"I found out later that she had been in Severus's class when I had Minerva pull her out. He is already complaining about us not making Potter go back to classes. He has flooed me numerous times; (I could hear him screaming from my office). I never answered once." I bitter look crossed her thin pallor. "I knew that it would be filled with wisecracks at Potter, but he doesn't understand what the boy is going through…"

"I will remember to have a talk with Severus later. Continue, Poppy."

"When I confronted Ms. Granger about it, she became very still and just said that the night after the attack he began to hear things in his head. She said that he told her that they screamed at him. It is clearly an affect of the Cruciatus Curse and I am at my wit's end!"

"Isn't there anything you can do?"

"Albus, I am not qualified. He needs someone that can do something, anything!"

The old man leaned back in his chair and closed his no longer twinkling eyes. "What do you suggest we do?"

"We send him to St. Mungo's."

"Sending Ron Weasley to St. Mungo's is as good as sending Harry to trail."

"I know, and we will have to give up soon. We can't keep hiding them, Albus. We can't keep saving them. Harry Potter may go to Azkaban. Ron Weasley may very well become a shell holding a dying soul and Hermione Granger may become her own destruction. We can do nothing, Albus; it's out of our hands. Leave it to fate."

"But the Prophesy…"

"We have come to a time when we can no longer rely on prophesies or predictions. Time is what we have made it. These children have proved it. All we can do is offer advice and condolences. Let's let them live their own lives, despite how wrecked they are."

"Potter…?"

"Go away, Professor."

The normally strict and calm woman looked at the fallen boy, eyes showing her pity for him. She studied him quietly as he stared across the lake.

He was dressed in Gryffindor Quidditch robes, dirt smeared along the bottom hem. His broom lie forgotten beside his feet clad in mud caked sneakers. His normally ruffled black hair was even more so and he was wringing his hands as the Giant Squid roamed across the water's surface.

"Potter, I am not going away not until you hear what I have to say."

"Professor, I am not in the mood for advice. I have heard enough. Nothing you can say will change anything. Everyone hates me. I killed someone. I am more than likely going to Azkaban after the school year. Personally, I think I deserve it."

A sour look crossed McGonagall's face. "Potter, do you _want to go to Azkaban?"_

"No, I don't. I'm afraid, but I'm not safe."

"What are you afraid of, Mr. Potter, Azkaban or yourself?"

"Both."

Silence descended briefly before she sighed. "Mr. Weasley has to go to St. Mungo's.  He needs more care than Poppy can give him. When he goes, all the children's tales will be proven true. You will have to go into custody-"

"No…" He moaned pitifully, letting his head fall defeated into his hands. Tears began to fall. "I'm not ready, Professor…"

She sat there and watched him cry and tremble. She too felt like crying because she could offer him no comfort.

Whoa! This story really shocked me! It (or at least this part) is much better written than my others. I really like it so I will probably write more on it than the others. I also sent out the new chapter of Jaded Eyes (which is my writing-just-for-fun story). I hope you liked this. I really do! Thank you for reading and please review! ~ Trinity 101


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